Chapter 31 Victoria's Mistake

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The clock chimed half past four as Winifred poured another cup of tea. "There were three telephone calls today. And a man came to the house."

"A reporter?"

Winifred nodded. "I suppose he was but I couldn't bear to talk to him so I didn't even answer the door."

"It will blow over soon." Victoria said cheerfully. Winifred had dark circles under her eyes and Victoria wasn't sure how to tell her friend about the second murder. They were sitting in the kitchen.

"I keep replaying that night over and over again," Winifred whispered. "I thought the roast was a little dry. I glanced at the clock so I could calculate how long it had been in the oven, that's when she screamed. We both ran through here, Philip flipped on the light, and the murder ran and she was lying on the ground. I can't stop thinking about it."

Victoria took a deep breath and said, "Now, listen, Winifred-"

But before she could say anymore, they were both distracted by a car. They heard to park in the carport, and a moment later, Philip came in through the kitchen door. He took off his hat. "Hello, Darling. Hello, Victoria, I'm glad you're here."

"You're home early," Winifred said.

"I've got a headache," Philip explained as he took off his coat and hung it in the closet. "So, Dr. Wilson agreed to take my last two patients so I could leave a little early."

He kissed wife on the cheek. "There's a police car at Kent's house."

Winifred stood up so she could see out the kitchen window. "Really? I wonder if something has happened."

"The memorial service was today," Philip said.

"Oh, I forgot," Winifred said. "Kent invited us to the reception they're having afterwards. I said I would stop by."

From the window she glanced out at Woodrow Kent's large house on the hill.

"Should I make another pot of tea?" Winifred asked.

Philip shook his head. "How about if you relax, and I'll make martinis? Victoria, would you like a cocktail?"

But Victoria didn't answer, she was too busy looking at her friend. Philip washed his hands and Winifred said something about olives and went downstairs.

Victoria's brow furrowed and she whispered, "aber es gibt keine andere möglichheit."

"Would you like a martini?" Philip repeated as he pulled the ice tray from the freezer and emptied the cubes into a bowl. Winifred came upstairs with a jar of olives.

Victoria looked at Winifred then at Philip. "Thank you. That would be nice." They took the ice to the living room and Philip began mixing the drinks.

"You don't mind me going to Kent's house, do you?" Winifred asked her husband. "I think it might give them a sense of closure or comfort."

"I'll go with you," Philip said gently.

Victoria turned to Philip, "Could you do me a favor?"

"You'd like yours extra dry?"

"No, it's not that pleasant, I'm afraid," she glanced nervously at Winifred and then back to Philip. "Could you tell me exactly what happened that night when you heard the scream? I mean, what you did."

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